Forget Me Not
by the original Pe
Summary: They say that what makes you ‘you’ is the accumulation of your past. Your memories, your experiences. But what if you wake up one day and that is all gone? What does that make you? PrePP
1. Prolouge

Forget Me Not

Prologue

August 9 2009

My name is Will Mackay. I'm 18 years old and I live in Peterborough, a small city in Ontario. My adoptive parents pretty much home school me. We move around so much, they didn't see the point in enrolling me into high school. My best friend is Skid Pedrou, and I guess he'd be my adoptive brother too. Ursa and Joe took us both in after everything that happened seeing how neither of us had anywhere else to go. Skid's an orphan, and as for me, I don't really know what I am. In fact, I don't really know if Will is even my name. We only got that from a name off of the charred remains of my file. I have what Ursa calls retrograde amnesia. That means that I don't have any memory from before I was fifteen years old. I don't know my name, where I come from or how I ended up where I did.

The part that really bites though is that even though I might be able to get some of my memory back with proper therapy or medication, I can't. You see, if I went to a therapist, they would be sure to ask me at some point what my first memories are, and I cant answer that. It's not that I can't remember anything; to be perfectly honest my first memories will forever be burned into my mind and nightmares. The problem lies within the fact that if I were to share some of the experiences I've lived through, my therapist would contact someone, either the authorities or the nut house. Either way, that therapist would then be shuffled off the mortal coil. Not that my story is lethal to listen to or anything, its just that's what happened to Skids Aunt.

When her nephew had returned to her, and she had found out what had happened, she had gone to the police. The next day she was dead. She had fallen down a flight of stairs onto a bunch of bullets. From that point on the rest of us knew to keep our mouths shut and Ursa made room for one more in her home. Sure we wont be getting retribution for what happened, but at this point, most of us are just happy to be alive and free.

There are about 30 of us in total, most went their own way, made their own life and tried to forget, but we all watch for each other. We're in contact constantly so that no one will go missing; no one will be lost to the dark again. Joe says we're survivors, but the others say its like surviving Auschwitz. Part of you never really leaves it. A part lives on in your nightmares, in the flinch at an unexpected touch, in every scar that mars our bodies.

Some didn't really survive though. I look at them and feel grateful for that air vent. For the person on the other side of it, whispering encouragement and promises of a better world. If not for that, I'm sure I would have ended up like April. No one has seen her in a month. We know she wasn't taken. She just couldn't escape that place, not in her head. That's where her scars are. Ty says that she couldn't escape, so she just disappeared, faded away into nothing.

It hurts when one of us is lost. All of us are pretty much all we have, and in a way I know I'm lucky. These people are my family; made blood by the blood we spilt in our bid for freedom. And I know they have my back, no matter what. But at night, when the house is quiet, and sleep is far away, I think of my real family. The ones I was born to. Are they out there? Are they looking for me? Are they different like me?

We tried looking of course. We'd searched for a missing report of a 15-year-old male with my description but the problem is that we really didn't know where to look. Pavlinka had been taken from her home in the Chezc Republic, Tabitha from Texas, Isaac from Tuscany. From my accent we can guess North America, but that's still a whole continent. So far, no luck.

So the only option left is to try and remember. A name, a face, something that could link me to my past. That's what this Journal is for. Amma thinks that it will be great therapy and that writing down what I do remember might help clear the cobwebs and maybe create a breakthrough in my memory. We'll see. It can't hurt; well… other than my pride when Skid finds out I'm keeping a diary. It's only a matter of time. I hope this is worth it.

WM

* * *

I warn all readers now, nothing is what it seems!

Please let me know what you think of the beggining!


	2. Assessment of the Situation

Forget Me Not

Chapter 1

Assessment of the Situation

I guess starting at the beginning would be the best. I mean, like I said before, it's not like I'm going to forget what happened, but maybe it would be easier to understand if I wrote this as I remember it happening.

Now, I know I said that my first memories were clear, and I guess that's a bit of a lie. I remember a bit before things got lucid. Mostly feelings, things like being poked a prodded by what I can assume were needles and other fantastic medical devices. I remember being cold, feeling weightless and wet. I remember voices but damned if I can remember what they were saying. All of that is mostly a blur though, and I don't know how long I was like that.

Waking up that first time though, nothing will ever be as terrifying as that moment was. You can face down monsters, risk your life and stare death in the face, but nothing, _nothing_ is more terrifying than waking up and knowing nothing. Try and imagine. You're hurt and sore. There are holes in your arms and bruises that you cant explain. Looking around you realize you don't know where you are, or how you got there. You try and remember, what was the last thing you did… but then you can't remember. So you try and think of easy things to remember. My name is … but you don't know. Why wouldn't you know? You wrack your brain; try to think of something, ANYTHING that you can remember. My favorite colour is… Purple. I remember that. Good, progress! I like the colour purple, and I live … where?

You're breathing gets erratic, you can't focus on anything. What's your name? Why can't you remember your name? Panic pushes at your heart, and you realize you're trapped. A small room, a bed, a sink, a toilet. You know what these things are. You know what they're for. Walls painted, a fourth wall, it was a mirror. Looking at yourself you feel like you're looking at a stranger. Your black hair is so short you're almost bald, and your clothes… they look like hospital garb. Long white sleeveless top that looked more like a gown, and too short white linen pants. My name is…

You look sick, you're pale and there are more marks on you than you noticed. Puncture wounds, burses and cuts. Clean cuts, as if made by a knife then stitched back up. My name…

You cant breathe and suddenly you're on the floor. My name! What is my name!? Why can't I remember? Where am I? What's happening to me? Who did this to me?

Questions fill your mind, and there are no answers. It's maddening. It's terrifying. And there's no escape from it.

… sounds like fun huh? I'd go on but really, there isn't much else. For the next little while I was pretty much a shaking ball of confusion curled up in the most convenient corner of the room. The cell, to be precise. It was small for a room, only about 8' by 8'. The walls were solid I would later learn, reinforced for all kinds of attacks. Three of the walls were painted what I can assume my captors' thought was a calming crème. The fourth wall, as mentioned before, was one large mirror. It wasn't until later that I realized that it was double sided glass. I couldn't see out, but anyone on the other side could see in without me knowing they were there. Tell me that's not unnerving.

There was a cot for a bed, nailed to the floor, with a thick sheet and a lump near the top for a pillow. Guess they didn't want me to be distracted by a one-man pillow fight. There was a stainless steel toilet and a small sink between it and my bed. These things took up most of the room in the cell, leaving little space to walk, or even have a good freak out. This I also know from experience.

The only other object left worth mentioning was the speaker. A small device located on the wall near the mirror that had a small speaker and microphone. An intercom.

That room would be my own personal hell for the next few months or so, but now I'm getting ahead of myself.

Being alone in that room was the most terrified I can remember being, and let me tell you, I've had plenty of experiences after that to compare too. It wasn't long though before I had company. A few hours must have passed since I woke up, and still I couldn't remember anything. Nothing personal, nothing that had to do with who I was, or how I got here. I had pushed myself into the only corner of the room that was available and not filled with furniture, the mirror pressed to my right, a crème wall to my left. Curled up and rocking only a little, I jumped when I heard a small click and a voice enter the room.

"PLEASE FACE AWAY FROM THE GLASS, KNEEL IN THE CENTRE OF THE FLOOR AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD." Came a commanding voice. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of it. Looking around my cell, I tried to determine where the sound had come from. When the order came again, I noticed the speaker on the wall above me.

Standing on shaky legs, I faced the intercom. "Who are you?" I asked, trying desperately to keep my voice calm. "Where am I?"

"PLEASE FACE AWAY FROM THE GLASS, KNEEL IN THE CENTRE OF THE FLOOR AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD." Was all the response I got.

"No!" I shouted, defiance rising in my chest. "I want to know what's going on!"

"PLEASE FACE AWAY FROM THE GLASS, KNEEL IN THE CENTRE OF THE FLOOR AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD."

"Why am I here? Why can't I remember anything?"

"PLEASE FACE AWAY FROM THE GLASS, KNEEL IN THE CENTRE OF THE FLOOR AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD."

"NO! I will _not_ kneel!" I shouted furiously at the mirror, sure that whomever was giving the orders was on the other side of that glass. "Not until you tell me who you are and what's going on!" Anger and defiance had replaced my confusion and fear from before, and it felt _good_. I could handle anger better, especially now that I had someone to take it out on.

"SUBJECT A ONE-FIVE-SEVEN. YOU WILL FACE AWAY FROM THE GLASS, KNEEL IN THE CENTRE OF THE FLOOR AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES." The voice boomed over the intercom.

With a frustrated yell I slammed my fists into the glass before turning to pace the small amount of floor I had at my disposal. Knuckles now aching, I thought over my options. One was to continue defying their orders and see what the consequences might be. The other was to do as they say and hope that by complying, they'd answer some of my question. Glancing at my reflection and seeing the current state of my body, I realized that maybe the consequences weren't something I was ready to deal with just yet.

Anger still simmering just below the surface, I reluctantly turned to face the opposite wall, and kneeled. With a deep sigh, I slowly raised my hands so they rested on top of my short hair. I stayed like that for a minute and nothing happened. I was just starting to wonder if my guests had left when I heard noise behind me. I made to turn to see what was happening but the commanding voice from before caught me before I could.

"Remain facing the wall as the required restraints are put in place." The voice was no longer coming from the intercom but from somewhere behind me. I didn't even get a chance to wonder what restraints were required before strong hands gripped my writs and my hands were yanked behind my back and bound.

"Hey!" I yelled, startled but I felt something brush my neck. There was a click and a high-pitched charge, like a camera flash charging up. Cool metal surrounded my neck and I suddenly felt _wrong_. I didn't know what that collar was doing, but I did _not _like it. "Hey! What-" But before I could protest further, two hands gripped me from my armpits and hoisted me to my feet. Spinning around, I faced three large men. When I say large, I don't mean that they've been hitting the fast food and cake a little too much lately. I mean they were about three times my shoulder width, muscles bulging and scowls adorning their faces. I'm telling you this mostly so that you'll understand why I decided I was thankful for not pushing to see what the consequences were. At this point, I was terrified one of them would get hungry and _eat_ me for a snack. All three were dressed in plain black army fatigues with no markings or badges to speak of. And all were armed with big guns. Yeah, I was going to do my best to cooperate for the moment.

"Subject A one five seven," spoke one in the voice I recognized from before. You are to be escorted to examination room C" With that, guard #1 turned and exited the room while the other two moved behind me. It was then that I noticed that the mirror was gone, opening up to a wide hallway.

The butt of a gun shoved into my back caused me to stumble forward and out of my cell. Looking around, I found myself looking into a cell identical to mine. Beyond the glass I could see an older boy laying on the cot, an arm draped over his eyes. He was wearing the same kind of clothes as me, and his arms and other exposed skin looked as though he'd suffered the same treatment as myself. Looking up and down the hall, I saw more glass windows, more cells. Before I could take anymore in, a hand grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. A low grunt of 'Move' accompanied by a shove got me moving and I was herded right, towards a strong steel door that guard #1 had opened. The hall beyond that was empty and it stretched both left and right before turning around a corner. We didn't go either way, but walked towards a large elevator door. An eye scan opened the doors and we all stepped in. a four digit code was punched into a keypad and the doors closed and the elevator started to move. For one crazy second, I wondered why there wasn't any music playing. Isn't that why they call it elevator music? …. Yeah, it wasn't that funny then either.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to a single long hallway, with three doors on each side. I was herded towards the first on the left and it was opened with a loud click of the lock. The room inside was furnished with a table and three regular chairs lined up behind it. But what drew my attention was the single chair that faced the table. It was a high backed metal chair, with restraints and strange instruments attached in odd places. Like the collar, I did not have a good feeling about that chair, and I was pretty certain I was supposed to sit in it.

Sure enough, I was escorted to the seat and roughly made to sit. I fought mildly against the straps that were placed over my wrists and arms, panic starting to make its way to the surface again. "Why are you doing this?" I asked desperately but guard #1 only watched on as the other two went about strapping down any part of me that could move. That included my legs, ankles, chest, biceps and arms. The only thing I could move was my neck and even that was limited. "Please! What's going on?!"

There was no answers coming though, and the guards stepped back from my line of sight. The door opened and closed and there was silence. For the next few minutes all I could hear was my own breathing. The room was set up like an interrogation room, I realized, the three other chairs facing me like a united front. Why was this happening? What had I done? I couldn't remember but I wanted to profess my innocence anyways. I would never have done anything to warrant this kind of security… would I?

I heard the door open again and three new people walked into my line of sight. Two men and a woman. They were carrying papers and folders, looking very businesslike and stiff. They sat in the seats in front of me and made themselves comfortable. The woman offered me a smile and I tried to force my lips to return it. These people were in charge, I was sure of it then and I wouldn't be wrong.

"Subject A-157." Began the man on the left. He was short with the look of a very average person. Not overweight, but not built either, his face was round behind black rimmed glasses and his hair was dark and cut close to his head. "Do you know why you are here?"

"No I-"

"Do you know where you are?"

"No but-"

"Do you have any knowledge of your ectoplasmic abnormalities or manifestations?"

"… uh, what?"

The woman on the right leaned forward with a generous smile. "What Dr. Quarry is asking is if you have any abilities that most humans don't have. Powers that are particularly abnormal."

'Powers?' I thought, "I… I don't know. I don't remember anything! I don't… know, I don't even know who I am! Or Where… or who _you_ are!"

"For now you are A-157." Dr. Quarry informed me without meeting my eyes. He was to busy writing something into his folder.

"That's – is that my name?"

"It's your designation, you might get a new name later on." Clarified the woman. "And you are currently inside a research facility. I'm Dr. Ritzon, this is Dr. Quarry and Dr. Spencer." She gestured to the two men beside her. Spencer was taller than the two other doctors and more strongly built. He still hadn't said anything and he was starting to creep me out with the look he was giving me. Ritzon had dark brown hair that brushed her shoulders and stylish black rimmed glasses that adorned her thin face.

"Research for what?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

Dr Ritzon smiled that smile again as if I'd just asked the million dollar question. "Our research deals with the supernatural. Manifestations of spectral energy and how they can be adapted to homo-sapiens." The confusion must have shown on my face because she elaborated. "There is a realm beyond our world. Most believe that when humans die, we go through this realm or even stay there, as ghosts." She paused for my reaction, but I only frowned. "There are even portals between our world and the next, but it is dangerous for the living to travel through these portals because they are unstable and can close at any moment. However, we have found that humans who reside near an active portal begin to show signs of side effects. The high concentration of ectoplasmic energy created by the portal sometimes alters peoples DNA, leaving them with abnormalities. These abnormalities seem to echo powers we normally associate with ghosts. For example, we have a woman who can turn invisible and another subject who can hover above the ground. Some are more powerful than others, and can even have multiple abilities. What we are trying to do is find a way to replicate the process that allows these powers to manifest in humans, and to control it. If we can do that, then we can spread this gift to those that might need it. People who have lost limbs can regenerate them; people can be stronger, live longer."

"But, I don't have any powers."

"You do, you just aren't aware of them yet. In fact, you are one of the most powerful manifests we've collected."

I balked at that. I certainly didn't _feel_ powerful.

Dr. Quarry rose from his seat and gestured to someone behind me. Two people in white lab coats came into my line of site, one was pushing a machine on wheels while the other pushed a tray of unfriendly looking medical tools. "During your stay here, you will take part in numerous tests for our research." He said without looking up from his clip board. Spencer was reclining in his seat and Ritzon was approaching the machine beside him.

"Cooperation is key here. These tests will go on with or without your complacency, but it would be easier on yourself to help us. You'll find that we reward well behaved subjects with special perks, like visits to other inmates, or use of some of the staff rooms such as the rec room or the weight room." She pulled a sensor from the machine and attached it to my left temple. "The time you spend in the labs can be tolerable, or not. It is completely up to you." A sensor was placed on my right temple and I heard the machine next to me whir to life.

End Chapter One

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So! First chapter is up! Hu-ra. Thanks for the reviews so far, Expecially cordria's! Very interesting to read!

but for a basic answer to most of the questions, this will be a progressive story, meaning it starts here, where will's memory begins and it will continue on well after the 'escape' mentioned in the prolouge. This is a Danny Phantom story and thats all I'm going to say about that. Just remember what I said at the end of the prolouge. NOTHING is what it seems.

Thanks and please let me know what you think of the first chapter!

TOP


	3. The Walls Have Ears

Forget Me Not

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom and all related characters belong to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. However, many original characters belong to me. Please ask before using them.

Forget Me Not

Chapter 2

The Walls have ears

The tests I underwent that first day were alright, though I was still terrified throughout the whole ordeal. Kinda hard not to be. I never did find out what the machine did, but the lab coats found it to be pretty interesting as they scribbled non-stop onto their clipboards. Quarry did most of the hands on stuff which included blood samples, skin samples, mouth swabs, hair clippings, blood pressure and many others I had no idea existed. He looked inside my mouth, my ears my eyes and even my nose. I don't want to know what he found there.

Then came the questions. Much like the questions they asked me when they first entered the room; I didn't know the answers to. Things like where did I grow up? Have I ever had any encounters with ectoplasmic beings? Have I ever shown any abnormal abilities? My answer to most of these questions were "I don't remember anything before waking up this morning."

I couldn't really tell, but Ritzon seemed particularly pleased with that answer. Spencer stayed in his seat overlooking the tests but not saying a word, and when they put their clip boards away he go up from his seat and left.

I was escorted from the lab by the same three guards that brought me there and when the elevator doors opened once more I saw that we were on the same floor as my cell. The secondary door opened and I was able to get a better look at the layout. There were ten glass 'walls' on each side of the long hall, which made 20 cells by my count. In the spaces between the glass was solid white wall decorated by a key pad and an intercom. Obviously the sole way of communicating with the prisoners. It seemed almost futuristic. Who did they think they were holding? Aliens?

I was led to the second cell to my left, the first was unoccupied. Guard #1 punched a code into the keypad next to my door and the glass slid up into the ceiling. My room was the same as I left it and for some reason that made me feel better. The second I was in the middle of my cell I was forced to kneel. The binding on my wrists were removed as was the collar on my neck. The second that the cold metal was removed I felt a rushing emotion of relief, and the sense of wrongness that had come with the collar disappeared. The guards were quick to exit, and by the time I'd turned around the glass had descended, and I was looking at my reflection.

The rest of the day passed at an agonizing slow pace. I tried to sleep on the cot, but my mind wouldn't settle. Without any distractions my mind wandered from tangent to tangent, from my apparent memory failure, to the recent alien theory. If they were holding Aliens in the cells, that would make me…

I looked at my reflection.

My skin didn't _look_ green but then again, you can never tell with aliens. Sneaky space invaders that they are.

Soon enough hunger started to enter into the picture and I wondered if they would feed me, or if this would be another test. Thankfully it wasn't, and at some point (As I had no way to judge time) a panel opened in the ceiling and two mechanical arms dropped down from the hole holding a tray. On it sat a plastic plate of food and a set of utensils (also plastic). The food didn't look appetizing but by that point I wasn't about to be picky. By the time I was finished there wasn't a crumb left on the plate.

Uncertain of what to do with my dishes, I gently placed them back on the tray. Nothing happened. With a shrug I went back to lying on the bed. Sometime later the tray retreated back into the ceiling with a mechanical whir, but by that time lethargy had taken over, and I continued to lay on the bed, disinterested. A short time later the single light in my room dimmed until all I could see was the shadowed outlines. I must have fallen asleep after that because I started to dream.

I suppose my earliest dreams are the most important, as dreams are made up of images and ideas that you've experienced. Since I had none at this point, my dreams would be the most reliable link to my past. Unfortunately, I don't remember much of my dreams on a regular basis, so by the time I'd realized the importance of these dreams, the details had faded away into nothing. What I can remember was that I was terrified. So terrified in fact, that I woke with a scream and then promptly fell through my bed.

Yes, _through_ the bed. My butt hit the hard tiled floor and I was suddenly faced with the underside of my bed. For the second time in the same day, I had a full on panic attack. The dream hadn't fully left my system leaving me completely disoriented. The dark shadows held no comfort and there was the small fact that I had just fallen through my bed. I pushed against the underside of the bed but it was solid to my fingers and suddenly I felt like there wasn't enough room. Frantically I started punching and pushing at the form on top of me, gasping against the panic. There wasn't enough air anymore and I was going to suffocate!

It didn't cross my mind to simply slide out from under the bed, I still couldn't get past the fact that I'd dropped through it in the first place. I needed to get back through, I needed to know that it was the bed that was broken and I wasn't crazy.

Tears had started to leak from the corners of my eyes and the gasping had turned into shouts of panic. Suddenly the arm that punched at the bed ended at the elbow. Everything stopped. The tears, the panic, my breath… even my heart stopped for a moment. All I could see was the faint outline of my arm which had gone through the bed. Common sense caught up with me and I wretched my arm back against my chest. Feeling just to be sure, I counted my fingers and flexed my hand. It was fine. Tentively I touched the spot where my hand disappeared. Solid. I flexed my hand again as the familiar tightness started to take over my chest. 'What the hell is happening to me?! Is it a trick? Is it the bed? Or was it … me?'

My breathing got short again and my hands kept clenching, and unclenching. This is not right! People don't just fall through beds! What's happening to me? What did those people do to me!?

I was back in full panic mode, afraid to touch anything for fear of fading through it. And then, as if someone had pulled the plug, my panic began to drain away, replaced by a strange feeling of calmness. "What-!?"

"Shhh." Came a quiet voice to my left. I jerked my head in the direction the sound had come from but only saw the wall.

Great, now I'm hearing things as well. Fear rose to the thought that perhaps I was in this place because I was crazy, but then that emotion was pulled away in an unnatural fashion.

"Don't be afraid." Came the voice again, still from the wall. Still unsure if my hand would disappear again, I reached out and my fingers found an oddity attached to the wall. A vent! Someone was in the vent.

"Who are you?" I asked, turning my whole body towards the grated opening. The little amount of light in my cell was nonexistent under the bed so I was left peering into the darkness, waiting for an answer.

I would not be disappointed. "A prisoner, like yourself." Came the sad reply. Now that he was listening closely, he realized that it was the voice of a woman.

"How did you get into the vent?"

There was a light chuckle. "I'm not. I'm in the cell next to you."

"Oh."

"Are you feeling better now?"

Blinking in confusion, it took me a moment to answer that. "Uh… yeah. I guess." To my surprise, the panic and fear that had been taking over moments before were now completely gone. "How-"

"Would it be alright if I asked if I could explain in the morning? It's been a long day and we both need our sleep."

The voice did sound tired, and now that the adrenaline rush that accompanies panic and fear was gone, exhaustion was settling in. But sleep reminded me of what happened. "But, the bed! I fell through it!"

There was a pause. "I can explain that in the morning as well. It won't hurt you."

"Are you sure?" I asked, feeling suddenly very attached to the voice. I had no idea who she was or how she knew the answers that she did, but so far, she was the only one who had promised to give me some answers.

"I'm sure. Now go to sleep."

"Wait!" I called, "What's your name?"

At first, she didn't answer, and I was afraid that she had left already, but soon enough her answer came drifting through the vent. "My name is Ursa McKay."

"D-Do you know what my name is?" I asked, hoped budding in my chest.

Her answer got rid of that feeling. "I'm sorry, but we've never met before." And she did sound genuinely sad for me, which is more than the scientists did.

"It's alright. I just thought I'd ask." I looked back up at the bottom of my bed. "You'll still be here in the morning, right?" I asked feeling like I needed to be sure before I let her go again.

"Yes. Now go to sleep."

"Ok… goodnight."

"Goodnight." Came the soft reply.

I remained under the bed for a few moments more, just incase Ursa came back, but only silence filled the cell. Finally, feeling more than a little tired, I pulled myself out from under the bed and carefully lay back down. I didn't fall through again, which was a good sign. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep again and dream more dreams that I won't ever remember.

VVVVVVVVVV

Waking up the second day was better than the first. I recognized the room as my cell, and as far as I knew, I hadn't forgotten anything else. Still hadn't remembered anything, but at least I hadn't forgotten anything. I wonder if I was this optimistic before I lost my memory.

Of course as soon as I woke up I remembered last night. Sitting up in bed, I pushed firmly on the mattress. Nothing. With a sigh, I crawled off the cot and got down on my hands and knees to peer under. The light in my cell was back to full power so I had no problem seeing the vent this time. It was small and narrow, so any chance of escaping through the ducts was out of the question. I shuffled under the bed and turned my head towards the vent.

"Hello?" I called.

There was a faint shuffling noise coming from the other side and then, "Good morning."

"I guess this means last night wasn't just a bad dream huh?"

"'fraid not."

I sighed and tried to get comfortable. "Do you know what happened? Did you fall through your bed too?"

"No, I don't have that particular ability. I'm an empath."

"Oh… whats that?"

"It means that I can feel what others feel. I can tell if they are sad, or angry or jealous. And I can change these feelings for them. Last night you woke me up with your panic, so I took it away to help calm you down."

"You… took it away?" I asked feeling a little stunned and for some reason a little violated.

"I know it's not ethical, and normally I would never do such a thing. But in this place…" Ursa paused for a moment. "I suppose this place has changed us all. I am sorry for acting without your permission, and I wont ever do it again if it bothers you."

I thought about it for a minute. She did sound sorry, and she did help in the long run. Who knows what I might have done if I'd lost myself completely to that panic. "It's ok, I guess it was for the best if I was keeping you up."

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that, in this place, there's so many who are scared and lost. I feel them all, and for the most part I can't do anything about it. We're all separated and alone. So in the place of companionship and comfort, I use my powers to give some amount of peace to those I can."

"How many others are there?"

"Many, though I've never had the chance to count. I know that there is another holding area like this one, with just as many cells."

I did the math in my head. There were twenty in this section, and if Ursa was right, that made forty in total. All those people locked in cells for what?

"Ursa," I began slowly, "Do you know how I fell through the bed?"

"I'm not sure, but it's probably your ability. Everyone here has some sort of ability, everyone in a cell of course. The guards and scientists are normal." She paused, "Have you never shown any abilities before?"

"I don't know. I can't remember anything. All I remember is what happened yesterday. Before that there's nothing. I don't even know my name."

I heard Ursa sigh from the other side of the grate. "Sounds like amnesia. Or it could be related to why you're here. But only the head scientists would know that."

"I asked them but they wouldn't tell me anything."

"Well I can't do anything about your name, but I can tell you about your bed problem. Simon has the same ability. He can walk through anything. Well, anything but these walls. They're reinforced to keep us in, even with our powers."

"But he can go through other things? Like how I fell through my bed?"

"Yes, and he can control it as well."

"Do you think he can teach me?"

"If you meet him I'm sure he'd help you. Normally though we're kept in our own cells. I'm allowed to visit other because Ritzon realized that I could calm the others down, so now she has me make rounds every week visiting various captives and raising their spirits."

I could tell from her voice that she didn't seem too happy about being used in such a fashion. "I met her yesterday, and two others. They did all these tests on me."

"They would be the head scientists. They're in charge. Ritzon, her first name is Carol. She likes to talk to us. She lets us visit one another sometimes, gives us books to help pass the time. It makes her feel less guilty about what she's doing. Out of the three she's the least dangerous. Quarry is a scientist first and foremost. He almost never talks directly to us, treating us like the lab rats he sees us as. Everything is a test to him, and everything he sees is recorded."

"What about the third one? He didn't do anything when I saw him. Just sat there and stared at me."

"Spencer. You definitely do not want to be around him. He's the main financial backing to this whole thing. I overheard some guards talking one day. He has some ideas for tests for us, but both Ritzon and Quarry refused. They said it was too dangerous. But what I don't like the most is how he looks at us. At least with the other two, they believe in their own minds that what they are doing is for the greater good. That the ends will justify the means. With Spencer, I feel the jealousy and greed oozing off of him like a poison. For him, this isn't about helping people with these powers, its helping himself. And he'll go to any length to get whatever it is he wants."

That really didn't sound to good, and Ursa must have picked up on my fear because a moment later she continued in a softer voice. "Hey, its ok. As long as Ritzon and Quarry are around he's just the purse. They are the only ones who do the tests."

"Like what they did to me yesterday?" I explained the swabs and questions I'd endured the day before.

"That's more of a check up. The tests they do usually have something to do with our powers."

"But I don't know how to control my power!" I cried feeling frustrated.

"I know, that just means they'll run tests to see what triggers your powers."

I was almost too afraid to ask. "Will it hurt?"

"I don't know." Was the sad response. "But I do know that you're not alone here. There are so many of us, and we're all in the same boat. Don't ever forget that ok?"

I nodded, though she couldn't see it. "Ok."

"Alright, now I think it would be a start if we gave you a name."

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I know its been a while, but I've been stuck on a different fandom coughlegionofsuperheroescough so I've been trying to get back into this story. what you dont know is that half the chapters are written, only, its the later chapters like 8-11, which doesn't help you at all! the next chapter is mostly done, so it should be up soon as well, but I promise nothing for the chapter after that! I can only say that I'm back in school... and I'm going to need something to procrastinate with so this story will probably be done withing a month! HA! ... god I need so much help...

Thanks for reading!

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